


Balance

by TheWanderingJade



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Steve, F/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Sass, Snark, no seriously Civil War is described as a tabloid bitch fight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-07-27 06:11:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7606768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWanderingJade/pseuds/TheWanderingJade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamic is the norm, but the way the world is dealing with the norm is shifting. That change comes to the United States mostly as mundane legislation, before it sweeps up even Captain America. How does Steve handle his duties in a complex world with being paired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steve Rogers gets Paired

**Author's Note:**

> My take on A/B/O dynamics in the Marvel universe, with sass all over.

Nature, likes balance. This is one of those universal truths, which many people wish wasn’t, and they try to ignore, but it always comes back to slap them in the face--in the same way that holding your thumb to the sky, to cover the Sun doesn’t prevent it from giving you a massive sunburn if you’re out there long enough.

Steve understood that, more than he assumed people thought he did--but understanding the fact, didn’t make it any easier when they approached him. Between the battles, and the general life trying to figure out where HYDRA, or whoever else was being a general pain, and what little his life resembled normal--he had taken notice, things were shifting, there was too much general unrest. It wasn’t quite fully out in the open, but there was a shift across the country, pockets where the balance was teetering, struggling to keep going, the problem of course was that the pockets seemed to be reflecting across the country. And yet, just as subtly there was the counter shift, more like the scaffolding, or main outline of a foundation--a structure that was crisscrossing the country in preparation of fixing the balance, guiding it where it needed to be.

That wasn’t a speculation on his part, he knew they were doing that because they had come to him months before to ask for his help when the time came. There was a slight hesitation from him, because while he knew there was a good point to it--there was also the general concern about things such as registries...he told them he’d get behind it, if they could try and quell the uproar that could follow. But they had been smart about that too. They pushed the idea through from the bottom up, driver’s licences were a form of registry, the draft, birth certificates, plus the EU and Canada had put in registries that were working, that were doing exactly what they intended. In some countries, the agencies were government directed, in others they were just strictly regulated. There would be push back, people concerned that the government was getting too involved in citizen’s private manners--but the need for balance was greater, and humanitarian groups backed the measure, along with general consensus from the UN--the Alpha, Beta, Omega registries were needed in the United States.

When the legislation finally went into effect, when the world didn’t end like so many fierce opposers guaranteed it would--when no one was rounded up and forced to go through an agency to get paired, people settled down a bit over the idea. Instead, some of those agencies which had been operating for some time before legislation set the regulations they had to meet, found themselves in slight problems. Agencies who didn’t take into account the welfare of all involved, were quickly shut down, this was true across the board; matchmaking agencies, and heat houses were required to have higher standards. Divorce laws were restructured, Alpha/Omega divorces had new regulations, and new aspects to be taken into account. Rehabilitation was now part of the procedure--for both parties in general, to deal with a broken bond, but also in direct relation to the root cause of the breakup.

Whenever Steve was asked, he would point out the good it did for people who were in need, but mostly he’d point out that it wasn’t mandatory--the only things mandatory were the regulations set in place for businesses. This was of course, only half true, the use of matchmaking services wasn’t mandatory, but the registry was.  So far though, Steve saw it working the same way Social Security, or birth certificates did--and in truth, the country seemed to slowly learn more and accept the changes at their own pace. Once that settled down, Steve didn’t think too much about the pairing agencies, or the registry--he was in the registry, but was a tad busy with everything Captain America to really bother with the agencies.

He didn’t think about it much at all, until three years after the infrastructure was put into use, when it was running like a well oiled machine, Steve got an unexpected drop in at breakfast.

“We’ve got to talk.” Steve almost didn’t hear Tony’s sentence over the thwap of the file he dropped on the table, just a few inches shy of Steve’s breakfast plate.

“Good morning to you too, Stark. Couldn’t this wait until after breakfast?” Steve sighed and offered Tony coffee, and part of the pancake stack he had next to his plate of eggs.

“Guess which cyclops spy organization is out to play you, or is just plain lying to you.” Tony mixed sugar into his coffee, and helped himself to the top pancake on Steve’s stack.

“About?” Though Steve had glanced at the file Tony had dropped on the table, it didn’t catch his attention other than having a red TOP SECRET stamp across it.

“You’ve been paired, more or less. I know you registered day one like a good little soldier, but from the looks of it--an Omega has matched with you to the point that SHIELD has been looking into her most of the year or so. As much as your lack of a sex life worries me Steve, I know you weren’t interested in the agencies, and I know they haven’t told you about this. Whatever they’re up to I just thought you should know your sex life has now gone political.” Tony’s eyebrow arched as he took a sip of coffee, meeting Steve’s gaze easily; Steve had a moment of wishing he had a dollar for every time someone ruined his breakfast before finishing his bite.

Steve pushed his pancakes over to Tony, and pulled the file closer to himself, finishing his eggs more out of duty--no one likes cold eggs, and unless unavoidable, he didn’t like throwing out food, than hunger. Flipping the file open he read over the summary page, she was twenty three, an interior decorator with her own firm, last name Penrose--Steve arched an eyebrow at that, it sounded....old somehow.

“Jesus, why is her FICO score involved...” Steve sighed and rubbed his forehead, even as he felt himself knitting his eyebrows in thought.

“Clearly a good little Omega needs a high score to be desirable...don’t want them to try and fleece you of your Stars and Stripes, grandpa.” Tony half shrugged as he kept eating pancakes. There was more commentary, but Steve tuned it out as he read through the file, which didn’t seem to bother Tony as he kept it up anyway.

Despite the trek to S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, Steve’s anger hadn’t abated, at all; which was more than clear as he made his way unannounced, and uncaring towards Coulson’s office.

“When the hell were you going to tell me about Miss Penrose?” Steve tried taking a calming breath, as he settled his hands on his hips, meeting Coulson’s fairly confused gaze without blinking.

“Pardon?” The confusion on Coulson’s face was genuine, but Steve was sharp, and there was a slight flash of recognition in the other man’s eyes along with it. He knew who Steve was talking about, which only annoyed Steve further.

“Don’t play coy, Coulson.” Steve could feel his jaw clench, and he had to remind himself not to grind his teeth.

"Ca-- Steve, you know after everything that's happened SHIELD is being careful about any kind of infiltration." Coulson was measuring his words carefully, Steve could tell.

“My love life, is not part of SHIELD’s jurisdiction Coulson...” Steve tried not to glower at the man, but he really couldn’t help it.

“It is when there’s an Omega involved, it’s technically a matter of national security...” Coulson shuffled a few files on his desk, and shifted to get up, not that Steve was moving.

“So much so that you couldn’t even inform me that it was happening? And has been happening...” Steve raised an eyebrow, and crossed his arms, a pin could have dropped in that office, and would probably have felt its own noise to be offensive to the moment, so it’d bury itself in the carpet. The tension in the room was palpable, Steve had every right to be annoyed, and Coulson knew that, but Coulson’s point wasn’t entirely invalid either, which Steve knew. Though it was just a few minutes, the stare down felt like it lasted much longer, before Coulson finally sighed and rested a hand on his desk, leaning forward just a bit.

“Look Steve, all I can say is that the inquiry into this Omega who has matched so high with you, was an order.” Coulson held his gaze, and part of the fight was drawn out of Steve, even if he rolled his shoulders back subconsciously.

“Fair enough, but you could have told me too, Phil.” Steve let out a noncommittal noise, as he turned to leave, knowing he needed to go check elsewhere.

“I was trying to find the right words. I know you’re annoyed Steve, but honestly, most of us have your best interest at heart.” There was no hesitation in Phil’s words, and if there was one thing Steve knew about Phil Coulson, it was that he was an honest man.

“The road to Hell is paved in good intentions, Phil...but I’ll keep that in mind.” Steve’s annoyance with Coulson was waning, but he’d let the other man sweat it out a bit longer, to prove his point. He turned then, and walked out of Coulson’s office, heading down the corridor towards Fury’s office, in truth Steve should have known.

Steve’s annoyance was deep enough that he didn’t bother to knock on the door before heading in, Fury arched an eyebrow at him but didn't bother to even pause in his phone call. Steve did have the decency to wait quietly while Fury finished his call, but glowered the entire time not moving a muscle from where he had stood himself in front of the director’s desk.

“..To what do I owe the pleasure, Captain...” Fury focused his gaze on Steve, and though not saying it outright, he was clearly unimpressed.

 

The meeting with Fury didn’t entirely calm Steve down, but it did give him slightly more answers than he had before; though he was still annoyed with all of the meddling. It seemed that the Director was only surprised that Steve had found out about Miss Penrose, and the answer to how many more people SHIELD had looked into, was never actually given to him; but he did have an option now.

Steve went back home, and picked up his notebook, the one where he had written down the information about his profile, not that he had thought he’d ever use them. It took him an hour to type up a message he was satisfied with, he decided that attempting to get to know her enough to set up a meeting would be best. While he owed it to Miss Penrose to tell her some amount of the truth, he didn’t think it’d be appropriate to do so over the computer.

He didn't know Miss Penrose, but he sure as hell knew more about her than she knew about him, and her file had in the least intrigued him enough, that he decided he could go out to Chicago to meet her, if she would have him. There was also some amount of guilt, after all, even if Miss Penrose didn’t know it, her account had been effectively frozen, therefore she had no possible matches until now, and he still wasn’t sure how he’d apologize for that.

It took a few days before they were talking more frequently, it was mostly via a messenger app he could use on his phone, and computer.  It was handy, since she was busy with work, as an interior designer, and he kept weird hours with the Avengers. Of course, this also meant it didn't go unnoticed by them.

“Are you texting your Omega?” Sam's smirk, only vaguely caught Steve off guard.

“I suppose so. Why did you come over to give me pointers?” Steve rolled his eyes, thinking twice about setting his phone down even as he finished peeling off his shirt, since Sam was only coming closer; his shower would be somewhat delayed.

“Definitely. Have you trimmed up? I mean, unless your Omega is the type who is fine with being au naturel, you’re going to want to do some trimming, and get a nice angle. Or do a full shot pose with a mirror...just be sure the room behind you is clean, though with you I’m sure that’s not a problem.” There was a seriousness in Sam’s voice, and demeanor that somewhat worried Steve, but mostly he was confused what pictures, angles, and trimming had anything to do with his texting Miss Penrose.

“Sam, what does any of that have anything to do with my texting?” Steve sat, somewhat heavily on the bench by his locker; he could honestly say this is not where he imagined the after workout conversation going.

“Nothing with the texting, everything with the seductive sexting though...” Sam's slow devilish grin most definitely gave Steve pause, what had he just gotten himself into...

“Come on Rogers, you can’t just go off of the pictures she put up for her profile. You want to see her in more relaxed moments, and work up to something a little naughty....it does great things to test real, personal compatibility, tells you plenty about a person you might not otherwise learn until almost too late, and it’s a great stress reliever for all involved.” There was real honesty in Sam’s tone as he spoke, and though Steve concede he had good points, he was not about to start sending Miss Penrose raunchy pictures of himself. She might not even want them, not to mention he had no idea how to even begin that conversation.

“I hope you guys aren’t talking dick pics, especially not unsolicited dick pics....” No one was really surprised to see Natasha wander over to their side of the lockers, though Steve arched a brow at her sentence.

“...Who is sending unsolicited dick pictures?” In some part of Steve’s brain, he was checking off another odd sentence he didn’t think he’d put together in polite company.

“How do you not first ask before that? What kind of person thinks, I know... let me surprise them with my cock in their phone...” After the little outburst, the conversation continued with more tips than Steve knew what to do with for personal trimming, the overall best angles to look into, and what poses to avoid. He didn’t think he’d need them soon, but then again he was still only getting to know her.

 


	2. Plaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew late night KIK conversations could lead to so much so quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be part of the last chapter but A03 had other ideas, so here we go.

It’s not that he was at all opposed to being paired, it’s more that part of him couldn’t help but think it’d be cruel to disrupt some woman’s life by pairing with her, especially if she was just a civilian... Days like this, he missed Peggy most...but she had lived a good long life, and had a family of her own. She’d want him to be happy, well she’d want him to try at least, she had said so in so many words that last time he spoke to her. He felt that tightness in the back of his throat, so he pushed that thought aside as he got off the elevator to head to his apartment, trying to figure out how to give Miss Penrose an honest chance. It’d be best to work out whatever it is as soon as possible, that way she could make her choice sooner, and get her life going whichever way she wanted it to. He couldn’t sleep much that night, he found himself sketching in his pad when his phone started flashing the colored LED light, for message received.

 

 _DesignerPlus:_ Hey Brooklyn boy, still up?

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ I am, why are you?

 _DesignerPlus:_ Just got done with a client who is overseas. Can’t shut my brain up, so thought I’d bother you.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ Sweet of you to think of me, you’re never a bother though. How was the client?

 _DesignerPlus:_ I had to talk them out of plaid walls....twice.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_.......why?

 _DesignerPlus:_  Why did they want them, or why did I have to talk them out of it twice?

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_....Yes, all of that.

 _DesignerPlus:_ Good. For a minute there I was going to have to seriously reconsider this situation, if the answer was anything other than that.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ What do you have against plaid? Did I miss something...

 _DesignerPlus:_ Nothing, it’s great for fabric. But not for the walls of a 200sqft study....all of them....seriously.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_......that’s a lot of plaid....

 _DesignerPlus:_ Understatement, I had to tell her it’d be bad for her eyes...it was a tedious call.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ You’re still just annoyed, huh. Sorry about that, we could go back to 20 questions to get your mind into bored mode.

 _DesignerPlus:_ Your questions are usually pretty good. If you have any shoot -- I can answer them while I get ready for bed then.

 

Steve found himself letting out a soft growl at his phone, and he had to take a moment to figure out why; only to have to admit to himself the conversation he had earlier with Sam, and almost everyone else, was still on his brain...and now tied to the idea of Miss Penrose getting ready for bed. He found himself half glaring at his jeans, before giving up and standing to change into a pair of sweatpants.

 

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ So if plaid doesn’t belong on walls, what does it belong on?

 _DesignerPlus_ : I told you, Brooklyn boy, fabric.  

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ No shit, smartass... You know what I mean, you’re clearly picky about patterns...

 _DesignerPlus:_ I’m an interior decorator, if I wasn’t picky about patterns some well-meaning, if confused people would have a lot more stress, and unhappiness in their lives as they ruin good homes.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ Noted. Still not an answer.

 _DesignerPlus:_ Fine. Shirts, even some dresses, bow ties, regular ties if the color is right. The lining of suits, underwear. Happy, bossypants?

 

Steve had a slight hiccup in his thought process...and before he could recover sent a reply, he then facepalmed himself over.

 

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ They make plaid underwear for women?

 _DesignerPlus:_ Yes, yes they do. My favorite are boyshort cut, or the ones that look like guy’s briefs.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ They make briefs for women? I mean, I know they do but they don’t have lines, or whatever?

 _DesignerPlus:_ Yeah, they’re making them for us now, hella cute. See:

 

And there in his phone, was a picture of Miss Penrose’s butt clad in plaid briefs that looked like the plain white ones he sometimes wore, but clearly cut for her hips, and there was something in him that was very annoyed that she was in Chicago. It was probably for the best...and yet, it could be remedied easily...

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ Those are very nice...yes....very. Um...and your butt too.

 _DesignerPlus:_ Haha, good thank you. It was too good of an opportunity, sorry.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ I am not complaining...

 _DesignerPlus:_ Just flustered?

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ Something like that...

 _DesignerPlus:_ You can be honest, Brooklyn boy.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ I’m always honest, it’s just...

 _BrooklynDoddgers4ever:_  I could tell you, but I hear a picture is worth a thousand words?

 _DesignerPlus:_ Go for it, Brooklyn boy

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ The honest truth

 

Steve wasn’t sure if he had paid heed to all of the tips Sam had given him, but he had paid heed to Natasha’s number one rule; so while there was a visible tent in his boxers, nothing was peeking out. A few minutes went by, and for once Steve was the one staring the screen as it said _DesignerPlus is typing_.

 

 _DesignerPlus:_ Sweet...Jesus....with a tent like that, if you weren’t an Alpha, I imagine you’d be the most sought after Beta, ever. I’m also really red right now, thank you for your honesty.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ You’re welcome for the heat...though if I’m going to continue my honesty, I should figure this out...

 _DesignerPlus:_ That’s embarrassed face, not heat flushing, Alpha boy. Well I feel if this is my fault, I should help you with that....

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ Oh right, all plaid is flannel and you’re just too hot, got it baby girl.

 _DesignerPlus:_ Maybe it is, flannel is warm, and soft you know.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ I do know, it’s pretty steady in my wardrobe for winter. I bet you’re cute flushed red no matter what though, especially in heat.

 _DesignerPlus:_ Pshaw, maybe.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ Now, little miss don’t go arguing your cuteness with me.

 _DesignerPlus:_ Oh, or what, Alpha boy?

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ I’ll have to go out to Chicago, to show you.

 _DesignerPlus:_ You don’t have to come here for me to show you I’m right.

 

Steve paused enough in his reply after hers to realize she was still typing, but that didn’t prepare him for her next message. Which was another picture, this one showing that he was right, with her plaid briefs pulled down, he could clearly see the skin of her bottom had the tell-tale red flush, of heat across them. All he could think of was how damn far Chicago was from New York, 790 miles of damn it all to hell, when could he book a flight.

 

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ Baby girl, that’s just proof I need to go to Chicago...

 _DesignerPlus:_ It’s pretty nice this time of year, you’d get to see some nice views.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ I already have a deep appreciation of the current views, baby girl...

 

While he did tug his boxers off, he couldn’t help but try and be coy, so he made sure to drape them over his erection, only leaving a bit to peek out at her; he was impressed that the accidental lighting made it partially artsy...and not just full out surprise dick.

 

 _DesignerPlus:_ I can guarantee the views are better in person, and your appreciation always welcome.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ I know this might not be the time to bring this up, but for the record, I was going to ask if you wanted me to come to Chicago so we could meet before seeing your glorious backside.

 _DesignerPlus:_ I appreciate that, and really just let me know. I’ll show you around my town, and teach you why pizza should be a pie.

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ Pies are for apples! I will baby girl, trust me. I guess I haven’t much helped you get to sleep huh?

 _DesignerPlus:_ Oh...I wouldn’t say that, I’m in a much better mood now. Easier to sleep soon enough...

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ Can I do anything else to help you, baby girl?

 _DesignerPlus:_ Short of lending a hand? I’ll take another substitute for 1000 words, if you please...

 

That he had moved to take the picture before she even answered, had everything to do with him being 98% sure, this little Omega would not back down the path she had so masterfully lead him on so far, and he couldn’t help the smirk at being right. He had never thought he’d be using his artistic instincts for provocative pictures of himself to send to a woman, he had not been in the same room with yet, but little of his life had gone to plan at this point. He showed her more, giving her a fair example of what he had, of what he would be willing to offer her, if she was in the room tugging her plaid briefs down to tease him...well the picture did give a good view of his hand as well for proportion, so several methods he’d be offering. His caption made him puff up a bit with pride, as he was sure she’d appreciate it.

 

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ Would this help you sleep, baby girl?

_DesignerPlus is typing..._

 

The alarm caught his attention, and he redressed hastily as he sent her a last reply for now before she could get anything else in.

 

 _BrooklynDodgers4ever:_ Emergency, gotta go.

 

Steve’s ability to get into uniform was second nature by now, no matter what he’d been doing before, but considering the slight difficulty of getting the lower half of his suit on, he was in less of a forgiving mood than usual when interrupted. Everyone noticed his mood, but no one was stupid enough to ask, at least no one who was sharing the quinjet with him--though Sam, Clint, and Natasha were all grateful that the fight was quick, and everyone that needed to be rounded up was done so in almost record time. The fading yelps about pained spleens of the henchman being taken away to be seen by a doctor, allowed them to focus on the debriefing.

“I’m not sure if that was a record broken or not, but we appreciate the quick work of gathering up those HYDRA henchmen...” Steve couldn’t help but shift in his seat as the debriefing started, still dirty, and with sweat clinging to parts of him that he honestly wasn’t fond of, the uniform didn’t breathe properly in all of those places. He worked his phone from his pocket, and opened KIK to let her know that he was safe, it was his only intent. But even as he rested his chin on one hand, trying to look like he was paying attention, a fateful glance at the screen in his hand, where he checked to see if she had gone to bed, or gotten his word that he was safe, shattered that attempt when a low growl escaped him. She had sent him one last picture before his message had gone through, one that went directly to his base instincts, and a general tightening of his pants that pushed out a deep growl he hadn’t known he could produce.

“I think I’m done here, good night.” No one seemed to move, let alone want to argue with him, the tension had risen the moment he had set his jaw, and the growl practically set it in stone. Even if Hawkeye did venture with a snicker, as Steve got up from the table.

Though the moment he stepped out of the room, the tension was broken by Sam’s muttering, and the distinct sound of cash being pushed across the table top, to the now smirking Natasha.

“The only thing I know, Sam, never bet against Natasha.” Had Steve been of right mind to hang about, he would have agreed. But at that moment, he was in the elevator typing up an email to Pepper Potts. An email that would get him a ride to Chicago, with his motorcycle in the morning, that would allow him to bypass the press that would surely find out if he was getting on a commercial flight.


	3. Diners, and Rides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve makes it to Chicago....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Antici--

Steve made a mental note to get Pepper something very nice from Chicago, not only had she set up a private flight, she had also included his motorcycle, and found him somewhere to stay should he need it. He had sent Miss Penrose (he supposed he should start calling her Aria, soon) a message to let her know he’d be in Chicago by eleven her time, properly settled. The plane got in a few hours before, but he wanted to get a basic feel for the part of the Windy City where the loft Pepper had given him the key to was. He was also a bit nervous, the desire lingered in him from the night before, it couldn’t be helped the pictures were still there...though he didn’t have to check his phone to see them, he had memorized all they showed. 

 

He made it to River East, where the loft was; apparently Pepper had called ahead, as he was greeted as Mr. Rogers when he made it into the parking garage. The building was rather old school Stark to him, then again maybe because it was an older brick building. Stopping by the security desk, and concierge (because of course Tony has a loft in a place with a concierge service 24/7), Steve was quite impressed with the amenities offered, and made a mental note of looking into the property for personal future use. He showered, and changed, double checking he had what he needed, before sending Aria a message asking where he could go meet her. 

_ DesignerPlus:  _ How about Stella’s? I bet you’re probably starving...and well, I have time for lunch today. 

_ BrooklynDodgers4ever:  _ Sounds like a plan then, I’ll meet you there in...half an hour?

_ DesignerPlus: _ I’ll be there, almost with bells on...Alpha boy. ;)

 

He had to swallow a growl, since his mind went directly back to the last time she used the term; he needed to try and keep a level head, or this little Omega’s flirting would land him in something a little more complex than he had originally envisioned. Instead, Steve decided to focus on the directions from the loft to the diner, he wanted to get there in one piece, and he wasn’t sure how friendly Chicago traffic was to motorcycles anyway. 

He made it to the diner with twenty minutes to spare, and managed to find a spot to keep his motorcycle fairly safe, and out of the way--a necessary step if he wanted to at least attempt to avoid the paparazzi for one more day. He made sure his clothes were tidy, before moving to head inside, only sending Aria a text once he had gotten a booth for them. It surprised him that the diner wasn’t as full as the online reviews led him to believe, but maybe it was just one of those days where he had gotten in, just before the rush came. He had only just ordered coffee, when he got a text that Aria was nearby, and she’d see him in a few minutes. Something in him tightened, and it took Steve a few moments to figure out if it was nerves, or anxiety...luckily he came to the conclusion that it was probably both, when she walked in. 

 

Aria Penrose was at least 5’11”, with auburn hair that tumbled down her back, and sunglasses covering her eyes when she stepped in. While he didn’t intend to ogle her, Steve couldn’t help but notice that the purple sundress she wore only managed to show off her curves more, and she had paired it with leather colored gladiator sandals that reminded him of something, not that he could pinpoint it as he noticed her slipping her sunglasses off. Her hazel eyes caught his, as he stood from the booth to greet her; he tried to convince himself that he hadn’t just seen her eyes dilate as she walked over to him, her hand reaching out for his. 

“Steve, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” Her smile lit up her face, and Steve had to mentally remind himself to breathe normally when she said his name, part of his brain scolded him, the other part thought it was hilarious that he was still as nervous about talking to a woman like this. He was sure that part of his brain, was a bit of an asshole. 

“Likewise, Aria...it’s really nice to meet you. I hope a booth is okay?” He gave her a smile, and motioned to the bench across from him.

“More than okay, I love the booths here, they’re comfortable, and cozy even for me.” She slipped off her purse, a brown bag that looked big enough to hold more than just a wallet, he was sure she could probably put a small animal in that, and Steve had to catch himself as his train of thought couldn’t help but wonder why women seemed to need such large purses, now. 

“Great, the waitress has been nice, she went over some of the menu when she noticed I wasn’t from around here.” He sat back down, and focused on her eyes, though she was wearing one of those tiered like necklaces which caught the light anytime she moved. 

“Stella’s is pretty friendly, even to boys from Brooklyn. Want to know which ones are my favorites?” Aria took that moment to lean on the table, and Steve had to remember again to breathe. He managed though, he focused on her as she happily pointed out all of her favorites on the menu; and though it took a bit more than ten minutes, they managed to settle on what to order. That done, they were left to each other, and their coffee. 

“So, was your flight in smooth, and everything?” Aria cupped her chin with a hand, and Steve couldn’t help but notice that her nails were painted a plum color. 

“It was, I got a lift from a friend...who also let me stay at a loft they keep here.” Steve gave her a smile, though his eyebrow quirked a bit when he noticed a quick flash of sadness in her eyes at hearing his reply. 

“Oh, that’s good then. I was worried you were going to be stuck in some claustrophobic, generic hotel or something.” She had freckles across her nose, which he noticed distinctly when she scrunched her nose as she brought her coffee to her lips, hazel eyes focused on his--she had nerve, he had known that, just by their conversations, but he was now privy to seeing it, and he was happy to know he found it as endearing as he thought he would. 

“Trust me I would have stayed in one of those if I had to, just to come see you.” Steve was convinced he really wasn’t a super cheesy guy, his life wasn’t some romance novel, or rom-com....but that line out of his mouth, sure as hell sounded like it was dripping in molasses... 

“That would have been very sweet...and I would have pestered you until you came to stay with me. No one really deserves, bland generic hotels...especially in a city as awesome as Chicago.” He noted her smirk, this playful air that came out in her demeanor as easily, and brightly as her smile lit up her eyes in a way that he knew would mean she was engraved in his mind.

He got a moment to gather his thoughts, as the waitress came with their meals, and a milkshake with two straws, which came with a free wink from the waitress that made his ears go pink. Aria’s laugh tickled his ears, and for a moment he didn’t care that she could see his ears turning pink, as long as she kept being happy. 

Their conversation was easy then, her laughter peppered with his between bites of food; bites from both plates because she insisted he try her dish as well, and then he raved about the milkshake tasting as good, and thick as milkshakes are supposed to be. 

“The best thing about milkshakes is making sure to have one, while you also have something delicious, and a bit salty, like fries.” With a single sentence, Aria Penrose had etched french fries as a sexy food in Steve’s brain, as she managed to take a slow sip from the milkshake, and followed it with a bite from a fry....he was pretty sure potatoes cut into strips, fried in oil, and salted were not inherently meant to make a woman’s lips (or anyone’s for that matter) pucker up in a manner that made his base brain think of pressing something else to them. 

“....I can’t say I’ve ever thought to try that...” That it became a bit difficult to swallow, was the tip of the truth...Steve watched the smirk come back to her lips, and her eyes light up. 

“Maybe you should try it now...You can always just dip it into the milkshake...it’s thick enough.” The innocence with which she got that sentence out, was entirely unfair, he was sure. 

“Well, why not...just dip it in?” Steve grabbed a fry, and dipped it into the milkshake, taking a bite and trying very hard to focus on the sweet, and salty mix in his mouth; the taste was fine, he could see why she liked it, but his focus was split, as she played with the bottom tier of her necklace...the charm of which appeared to be a rose gold feather around the size of her fingernail. It caught his eye though, and so did the ample cleavage it rested snuggly into, when she let it go.

“You might be onto something here, Penrose...” He let out a chuckle, when he noticed her eyes widened just slightly, before she laughed, and he felt her leg rubbing against his. 

“Oh, you’ll learn I often am, Rogers.” There was something in how she said his surname, that made him let out a light growl. This time he couldn’t ignore that her irises dilated, and that a blush was creeping up from her chest, to spread along her cheeks....he imagined both ways. 

“Maybe I should start learning now?” His gaze flickered to her lips as he watched her bite her bottom lip lightly. 

“...My apartment is probably closer than your loft...We just need to wait for a ride...” Aria flipped her hair over her shoulder, and it only became more apparent that her skin was flushing from the start of a heat; they did need to get out of this diner before things got out of hand. 

“We don’t, think you’re comfortable enough in that sundress to get on the back of my bike?” Steve didn’t miss a beat as he flagged down their waitress, and asked for the check and a to go box, half of their food had been untouched, and he already knew Aria was just as much against wasting food as he was; it just wasn’t right.

“With you, absolutely, I’ll pull up the quickest route from here...I’m not sure I can think as straight as usual...” There was no real embarrassment in her tone, rather an apologetic tone that he couldn’t help but feel was more for herself, than him. 

“I promise it will be a safe ride...” Steve smiled at their waitress, and easily packed up their untouched food, amused when after placing them in a plastic bag, Aria picked it up easily and settled it into her purse....

“I believe you...I’ve never been on a motorcycle...so this will be fun.” He chuckled, and got out of the booth, offering her his hand to help her up. 

“Oh...it very much will be.” Steve felt her squeeze his hand gently as they headed out of the diner; leading her towards the spot where he had stashed his motorcycle. It was a good thing, he always kept a helmet with his bike, though he never wore it himself; he helped secure it snuggly on Aria’s head, and stowed Aria’s purse in his saddlebag before teaching her how she would get onto the back of his motorcycle once he was seated....the flash of her thighs didn’t much help him, though knowing where they were headed allowed him to force enough focus to keep from convincing her for a quickie (he owed Bucky $20 for that one) right there in the alley.  

As Aria settled snugly against his back, once he had started it up, Steve felt a warmth settle around his sternum, that soothed the anticipation building between them for the moment, and he couldn’t help but smile as he carefully made it out of the alley towards the road. Aria had, of course, been right, her apartment was closer to the diner, than the loft was, but even if it had been the same, or a bit further...Steve would have happily gone to her place. Ever since she had sent the pictures, Steve had wanted nothing more than to flood her room, and any room she was even remotely undressed in, with his scent...layered with hers, it was a base instinct he didn’t always feel right indulging in, but one that fueled many of his fantasies, and he doubted it could be helped. 

Steve couldn't really describe Aria’s building because it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, and his mind was focused on other things, the outside was brick, and luckily had a parking garage with reserved parking that he could keep his motorcycle safely in. Getting onto the elevator, and up to her floor was a slight blur, mostly because he could feel the anticipation rise as tension in her...especially when she rested her head on his shoulder a moment, only to run her fingers along his arm slowly. It shouldn’t have been possible for him to feel it, through his leather jacket...but the warmth of her touch seeped through easily, and when she turned her head up to look at him he saw the flush across her cheeks; the dilation of her eyes pulled him in until he felt the fingers of his right hand tracing along her jaw slowly, resting behind her ear while his thumb traced her pulsepoint gently.

“We have a lot to talk about...” He wanted to kiss her, but he also knew if he did that, right there....they wouldn’t be leaving the elevator any time soon. 

“I know....my bed is the most comfortable spot for conversations...” Aria’s smile was sweet, almost innocent, until she bit her bottom lip again.

“Bed would be good...yes.” He took a step back just as the elevator dinged, and opened the doors; she laced her fingers with his and stepped off the elevator, heading down the corridor towards her door leading the way for him. The only pause was for her to unlock the door, and set her purse down; neither of them could tell when the door clicked behind them, though they knew it did, as the louder noise was the thrumming beat in them once their lips met. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--pation. :D


	4. The Promise in a Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aria clouds his mind, and all Steve wants is to memorize her taste...just once, so he can think clearly again. (Or so he tells himself)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for keeping you all waiting. Heads up for crude language ahead, and a sex scene.

She still tasted of the milkshake, with a bit of salt though not for long. Steve felt himself pulled to her, not inherently physically--physically she was pressed against him as they kissed--rather his senses, which had been attempting to focus on her entirely, were now, one by one pinpointing her as the only thing he needed to think about. It was odd, to feel an extra surge of something, help him narrow his focus entirely to this other person in front of him, with laughter on her lips, promises in her eyes, and a story along her skin he wanted to memorize. 

Steve felt his fingers move from her hair, along her cheeks, and jaw to trace her neck slowly, and across her shoulders; their kiss languid, but with a deep desperation, as if the other held the answers to the questions they couldn’t fathom themselves, or find the words for, over a lifetime. Somewhere though, the kiss changed--probably when Aria bit his bottom lip with a soft mewling noise that came from the back of her throat, one of her hands fisting his shirt, and tugging lightly. His hands moved to her hips, and then dropped to her ass, easily lifting her to him, so she could wrap her legs around his waist--it was entirely selfish of course, despite him not having any real idea to the layout of her apartment...but he was getting a great layout of her ass in his hands. Between kisses, she mumbled which door was her room, and he followed her directions easily, only shifting one of his hands to find the zipper on the back of her sundress. It occurred to Steve that she cupped his face, in a way that allowed her to rub her thumbs along his cheeks, and though he didn’t understand why he found it soothing. 

They stopped kissing long enough to get her dress off, and Steve couldn’t help but smirk at the way the heat blush was coloring her skin; the deep crimson followed a pattern across her shoulders, along her neck, and down her cleavage. Her sundress crumpled to the floor, and her breathing hitched, pupils wide as she gazed at him, lips swollen from kissing, and little mewls escaping her with need. Steve kissed her forehead, as he set Aria on the bed so he could work off his shirt, and let out a chuckle as he felt her hands working on his belt, though the chuckle turned into a growl as he felt her lips on his stomach. He let her work his jeans off, running his fingers through her hair, as she shifted and kneeled on the bed to kiss him slowly; his hands moving from her hair to her back, unclasping her bra in a fluid movement, that brought a laugh from her lips. 

Slowly they worked on both ending up on the bed between kissing, until she was comfortable on her back, and keeping him close between her legs with her knees pressed to his hips. Though the air felt thick, the heat blush deepening on her skin, and spreading across his own skin as well; there was an attempt to take their time, to make sure they were both on the same page, the kissing helped, until they broke apart again. 

“Steve...” it was the way her hands seemed desperate across his chest, over his shoulders, while she arched her back just enough, that she was very much offering herself to him. He lowered his head to her neck, and nipped over her pulse point sucking on the skin to get her attention while he worked his boxers off; though he underestimated how much he wouldn’t really be able to think about much else other than...well, getting in her. He was a bit too eager in trying to get her panties off, and as he gripped the fabric, he heard it rip, and paused as glanced up at her. 

“Fuck it, fuck me....please...” Aria’s body squirmed under him, and again she arched her body trying to entice him, and considering his mind immediately moved to how pretty her face would look as he took her, he didn’t need to be told twice.

Steve shifted just enough that he was holding himself over her with one arm, so that he could use a hand to guide his cock...and Aria, ever helpful, willingly spread her legs for him, unashamed that she was glistening, and already wet. He wasn’t sure if it was the clear, blatant invitation that fed into the heat in him, in both of them really, or that he had hit that peak where he could smell her...but it became harder to hang onto any tangible thoughts as he pressed the head of his cock into her pussy. His thoughts turned abstract, as he felt the rise in his temperature as he sunk into her, resting for a moment to  relish just how warm she was around his cock. He watched her reaction through hazy sight; her mouth parted in a mewling moan, her chest rising, and falling quickly as her breathing hitched, she tilted her head back, offering her neck, and chest to him. Something in Steve tightened, and for a moment he wasn’t sure what it was, and lacked the ability to be able to work it out; leaning down he nipped, and kissed at the skin of her chest, nipping softly at a nipple before running his teeth along her skin in response to her tightening around him, and rolling her hips to encourage him to move. 

The slow steady rhythm that Steve settled into, allowed him to appreciate how soft Aria was, her tits jiggled in rhythm to his thrusts, and the eager rolling of her hips made it easy for him to shift so he was holding himself over her with both arms. Their gaze met, and Aria shifted under him, so that she was leaning on her elbows, extending just enough so that they could kiss again; languid kisses, relaxing him even as she clenched around him each time he filled her fully. 

The kiss broke, and Aria’s hand moved along his arm until it rested on his shoulder, she tilted her head back as her moans got louder, and Steve couldn’t help but notice how the heat left crimson patterns along her torso, encouraging him to touch her more. The need in him grew, and he found himself quickening his pace, his groans mixing with her own; when they had managed to move from their starting point in the middle of the bed, Steve couldn’t say but he shifted his position accordingly when Aria pulled her legs a bit closer to him. 

“Am...I crushing you...” his worry seemed one sided, as Aria moved her hand to the back of his shoulder, and nuzzled the hand he had moved to cup her face; he was closer on her now, almost pinning her down, and he couldn’t help but worry he’d be too heavy and too much for her. 

“No...God, don’t stop...fuck me.” Aria moved her free hand to the nape of his neck, and Steve stopped thinking; his nose bumped hers gently as his thrusts kept steady, the feeling of Aria clenching her pussy around his cock almost drove him to insanity. 

Steve’s focus became where he ended, and she started; the mixture of their moans, their hitched breathing, soft mewls that laced her words as she begged him to keep going, but it had been her hazel eyes that drew him in. He knew he was murmuring to her, but all that filled his hazy thoughts was how good it felt to be burying himself in her steadily, and how every time she tilted her head back...all he wanted to do was bite her, so he could claim her. It was such a base thought, a feeling, an instinct, and it sure as hell didn’t help that Aria offered her neck just as they both felt his knot fill her; Steve didn’t attempt to fight it, he nuzzled her neck at the pulse point before biting the spot, rubbing his tongue against the bite even though he knew he had broken skin. 

Aria squirmed under him just slightly, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist at the same time that Steve felt his orgasm hit, his body tensing in pleasure as her legs kept him close, the shivers she sent through him each time she rolled her hips, grinding against him as she rode out her own orgasm. He sucked softly at her neck, murmuring against her skin in what he hoped was a soothing way, as he still couldn’t really focus on what he was saying. Aria’s fingers ran through his hair slowly, letting her nails just lightly graze at the nape of his neck in a way that sent his body into shivers, and made him more aware that he could feel their heartbeats fall into sync. He didn’t think she’d want to kiss him as he lifted his head from her neck, and some part of his brain noted his bite on her was rough, and turning an angry purple--but the thought never took hold, as he felt Aria’s hands cup his cheeks, and her lips met his again. 

It was some time before he could think again, before they could catch their breath again, before the haze of heat would subside enough that their sight was clear again, but the kissing helped ground them to each other. 

Amazement that she would share the copper on his lips, was the first thought that broke through the focused sensations...it only grew when he broke the kiss to rest his forehead to hers, expecting a grimace as she had to be coming back into herself like he was, that simply never came. 

Aria’s eyes had gone back to normal though he noted that it took her a moment to focus on him properly; there was something in how she studied him up close in that moment, and Steve found himself wanting nothing more than for her to find him worthy. Worthy as a man, and an Alpha--no her Alpha, worthy of her opening up to him, because if there was something his friends were all right about, it was that Aria was more than just the profile in the database, or the copious amounts of information S.H.I.E.L.D. had gathered about her. He wanted to know her, and he wanted to be part of her...Steve just wasn’t sure how much of that was fueled by being knotted. 

“I’m probably crushing you...” He felt protective of her, even from himself, and though he love the sound of her laugh, he was not satisfied until they were in a better position, with both of them on their sides, and one of Aria’s legs draped over his hip.  

“Thank you...” She seemed amused as she settled down, since they were rather cozily pressed together, it took a few more minutes of shifting until they were both properly comfortable. 

The conversation was slow, but Steve was happy to find that the ease from before was still there--he had been worried that it had all been fueled by lust, and would shatter once that was partially sated. 

“Do you like living here?” Steve ran his fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face, noting how it curled easily around his fingers. 

“In the city, or the apartment complex?” She was relaxed, it was the way her breathing was back to normal, and the slow blinks as she replied. 

“Both, I guess.” Steve curled an arm under his head, though the pillow was comfortable, but he didn’t want to risk falling asleep right now, though that wasn’t too likely with how aware he was of Aria. 

“I know the city pretty well, but it still surprises me; it’s home in part because I was born here, and part because I make it home. The apartment is pretty comfortable, which is saying something as there’s some less than friendly ordinances still in place, that while not always enforced are sometimes stifling threats. I’m not afraid of the world though, if that’s what you want to know...home is where I make it, my parents taught me that.” She ran her fingers through his hair slowly; then down his cheek, and jaw, before ghosting her fingertips across his lips. 

Steve wondered if the slight shocks he felt from Aria’s touch, was just how focused he was on her, how even though he wasn’t fully examining the thought when she spoke of home, he could think of her--or if it was just because he was still knotted in her. 

“What would your parents say if you wanted to move away?” He wasn’t sure when she shifted, but he felt the weight of her leg settle differently, as he nuzzled her cheek gently. 

“Do you have enough boxes?” Her tone was light, but something in her eyes told him she was telling the truth, even as they shared a chuckle. 

“I mean, they’ll also tell me they’ll miss me, and to be safe. They’d want to visit as soon as it was possible, but unless they thought I was heading into a dangerous situation, they wouldn’t try to discourage me. They want me to be happy, and trust that I can tell what that means, no matter what it might look like in front of me.” Her tone was open, and her gaze never left his as she spoke, he had no doubt in what she said--just doubts that tying herself to him would make her happy in the long run. 

Steve rested his forehead against hers a moment, trying to organize his thoughts, and find his words; he could feel Aria’s fingertips trailing along the nape of his neck in slow, steady patterns--soothing him without prying into what was bothering him, an action he appreciated immensely. 

“How long are you staying?” She trailed a nail gently along the back of his shoulders, and Steve couldn’t help but shiver in response. 

“A week...I know it’s short...I’m sorry.” He rested his elbow on the pillow, leaning his head against his hand as he watched her a moment longer. 

“I know you’re busy...I think in a week we’ll know either the answer to the question you implied, or have a better handle on it, and I think that’s fair.” Aria punctuated her point with a soft kiss on his lips, but when she pulled away he couldn’t help but follow, as kissing while cuddling was a better way to pass the time until they could move again, than anything else he could think of. His questions could wait until a bit later, but her lips, and her taste--those he needed more of right then. An indulgence he didn’t feel much inclined to deny either of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and sticking with me.


End file.
